The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-09-18


scribe her, but l can never make you under
stand the charm of her presence" She
was not so beautiful as her sister So they
sad. Yet she was "a great favorite.
She was charmingly original She
never said things you expected her to say,
and often startled you with remarks that
sounded almost wicked:
And yet men at her side
Grew nobler, girls purer.n
Her eyes were dark-blue and most beauti-
full under long, brown laShes; and her hair,
when embraided fell far below her waist in
wonderful, shining yellow waves. She was
something above the me- iuEl height, with
ilne figure, and an eaeI, graceful swing in
her movements that suggested the rhythm
OF numbers. She was, they said-for in
such matters they have decided opinions
not 50 pretty as Josie, but more elegant
looking In the dusk of summers twi-
hight We walked together under the stars.
Il shall never have girl to suit me as
you do for friend. l can talk TO nobody
III the world as | talk to you. What shall l
do without you! 0, jeff, cannot let you
go! And yet" dashing away her tears and
breaking into a bright smile, Il must not
tell you to stay, for you are no longer boy,
and | want you to be such a man, stopping
to scan my & feet of height, "such a man
as, with such physique, you ought to be
Shalln
Bessie" l began, abruptly. wonder
she did not notice how harsh and husky my
voice was. Il want to tell you something
l want you to make me a promise. But |
know 1t would not be fair to you | don't
exactly know what to do, for | am afraid
to wait, and do not think it would be fair
to you or your brother" | went on, blum
dering more and more, was so savagely
ir1a J. l..
this promise. You will write to me, sweet
est cousin, just as we talk to each other
Tell me all your bright, funny thoughts,
and everything that happens in connection
with yourself. VIII you:"
Why, Of course shall do that"
But, remember, you must keep back
nothing from me. Not even what that
empty-headed Craig has to say to you. Let
me know who admirers my splendid white
rose, my queen of flowers. Keep nothing
from me-not even--when-you give your
heart away. Promise again, won't your
Yes, and of course you will do the
same"
You know that before you ashland,
Bessie, give me your hand If | should not
come back, do not give my place to another.
You know what | meanI'
Precious old jeff Be quite sure of that.
You are just yourself to me, and all the
love in all the world could not take the
place of yours. Be sure of that, my dearest
JEFF, my brother"
That last Jared me very much. l asked
her to kiss me out there under the stars,
which she did, frankly and unblushingly
Thus we parted.
l pass over the six years of study and
travel. The object l had in view made
them short. With the memory of my
blighted childhood before me, said my flu
ture should be as perfect as wealth and fame
and love could make it.
pass over the visit to my mothers land :;
the mans emotion amid the scenes of his
early sorrows.
/ pass over the sweet letters from my
cousin, until the second one l have given
you to read. 1t came after years of wait
ing, and the shock it gave me was terrible.
The next followed soon after. The third
was not sent, but given to me afterward.
On an evening in the spring that followed
Harolds death, l stood before her once
more. No need to speak of what | felt at
that supreme moment. | had left her in her
own room where she was most tenderly be-
loved. without the shadow of a care on her
bright face l found her alone as | have
tried to picture herewith a look in her
sweet eyes it broke my heart to see. 1t told
too plainly of lonely nights and wearisomo
days, of such hunger of heart as / had
Why had left her so long to battle with
poverty and sorrow? A look of glad sur
prise flashed into her face at sight of me-
She gave me hearty, frank welcome
Afterward when talked of some bust
ness arrangements l had settled, she grew
very proud and would not hear me. Then
she told me of the doctor. and was Jealous
With my old willful pride strong upon me
sneered when she spoke his praises. Did she
think l was blind that could not see what
it meant. l left her full of bitterness.
think | should not have taken it so hard if
she had sent that letter. In its place, two
weeks later, she sent me a few hurried pages,
telling me of her engagement-as she had
promised she wrote to tell me, her best
friend, when she gave her heart away-and
asking me to be present at her marriage.
was wicked them | said was fool for
ever having such dream. | might have
known that it was too full of sweetness for
such as l! My fathers sin had rested over
my early years like blight What right
had to hope it would not follow me to my
grave! 1t was he who had won me to think
differently; this girl whose gentle but firm
hand had led me from the old defiant Bit
terness, up higher and higher, until l had
dared to think she was born to be my good
angel Well, the dream was at an end |!
And the glimpses | had had of future, en-
nobled by work, glorified by love, they were
at an end too for all time. And the work
stself. That was at end too. For why
should / workl Why should live indeed I?
Who was there to care if l should yield to
that terror of my fathers last years, and
end my life before it became, like his, I'M
endurablef His sin had been great, but now
| began to understand something of his
Jealous torture My poor father! Grad
ually though slowly better thoughts came
The black ones could not stay with that pure
face which | could not thrust out of my
heart. | remembered my fathers face
when he spoke of the man he fancied his
rival How, after all that had passed, it
was full of fierce hate. | remembered how
the very thought of the mans PROJECTIONS
had seemed to increase his bitterness ten
told.
And, heaven help met / knew that, tried
as he was should have been no better.
The knowledge terrified me. | struggled
honestly, and think can say i'll cannot
saw more than that did not hate the man
she loved. But it would have been a relief
to have found some objection to make
knew of none | wrote and congratulated
her. And then l went to work. prospered
in that If had died in those days there
would have been small chance for my soul
was not a good man. / certainly did not
work from the right motive, but with kind
of logged persistent defiance of destiny
battling with my disappointments proudly.
but not manfully or patiently. / would
have blamed her if / could. / tried TO say
~ vat kneyy II WAS not tr-le that / wished